


Catch and Release

by Vault_of_Glass



Series: Opportunities for Leisure [5]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Bossy River, Breathplay, Dirty Talk, F/M, Handcuffs, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding the sass out of MacCready, Shameless auto-fill, kinkmeme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 15:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6962332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vault_of_Glass/pseuds/Vault_of_Glass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When River told MacCready he needed discipline, she wasn't kidding. He just never imagined it would come in the form of handcuffs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch and Release

River just happened across them one day.

They were ransacking a camp they'd just cleared, stepping over grimy, sallow corpses, raiders too chem-fried to fight well and far too easy to kill. It almost felt cheap, how she'd always imagined pre-war hunting had been, gunning down doll-eyed deer in a meadow. It was a callous and a hollow thought, one that troubled her a little bit, but it was a troubled world she lived in now, and it wasn't half as disturbing as some of the other thoughts and feelings she'd experienced since walking out of 111.

She jimmied open the lock on a toolbox and rummaged through its contents, pocketing a stimpak and a bottle of buffout. And then her fingers found cool metal: the edges of the chain between a pair of handcuffs, and she suddenly imagined it pulled taut between straining wrists, her cheeks burning hot. She pulled the handcuffs out by one loop, her gaze lingering on the glinting metal. To her utter shock, the tiny handle of a key jutted out from the other cuff. She locked the cuffs to test them, twisted the key and almost laughed out loud when they easily slid free again. The toolbox had kept them in great condition.

She slipped them surreptitiously into her bag, and MacCready was none the wiser.

* * *

 

For weeks, the handcuffs had bounced around at the bottom of her bag, completely forgotten. River was responsible for far too many runaway synths, mutant eradications, DIY projects and settler kidnappings to keep track of all the passing fantasies that filled her rare free moments. She could almost feel the stress growing heavy like a tangible weight on her shoulders when Preston stopped her on her way out of Sanctuary to tell her about two more settlements that needed help.

MacCready urged her to keep walking, sending the Minuteman a death glare over his shoulder. "Come on, man, give her one night to herself," he snapped, and if he sounded irritated, it was only because he hated seeing the dark bags under her eyes, hearing the weariness sap the silk and melody from her voice.

"My hero," she chuckled, and even her laughter sounded tired.

"You gotta take care of yourself, Riv." His voice was tight, none of his usual humor in the words.

"I slept for like eight hours last night."

"That's not what I mean." He made sure to close each sliding door behind them as they made their way into the garage. River dropped her bag and sank onto the bed, curling her legs up beneath her. "The wasteland's probably a little more stressful than your pre-war life. You gotta blow off some steam."

Her eyes dragged down his body, flickered back up to his almost thoughtfully. "What do you suggest?" She framed it as a question, but the answer burned like a flame in the smoke of her voice.

He smirked appreciatively. "If that's where you want to take it, you don't need to convince me. As long as it's something that relaxes you. Helps you forget all the crazy stuff that happens every day."

"What do you do?" she asked, arms wrapped around her knees, chin resting in the dip between them.

He leaned against her filing cabinet, arms crossed over his chest. "When I was younger and reckless, I'd go out and hunt something down. A camp of raiders. A pack of yao guai. Radscorpions, mutants. It wasn't exactly the safest way to blow off steam, so I stopped once Duncan was born." He flipped the question on her with a shrug. "What did you do before the bombs fell?"

River chewed on her bottom lip, casting her eyes around the garage as if she could read the memories in the chipped paint on the walls. Suddenly her gaze shifted to her bag on the floor, and her cheeks flushed pink. "There is something we could try . . ."

He lost himself for a moment in the curl of her quiet laughter, seductive and timid all at once. It crawled like a fever over his skin, pierced him to the heart, provoked the ravenous craving for her that boiled just beneath the surface at any given moment. "Anything," he promised, and he'd never meant it more. "If I can help, I will."

She rose to her feet and crossed the room toward him, held him captive with the honey amber of her eyes. She was close enough to kiss when she stopped. He held his breath, hesitant to shatter her concentration and whatever outcome it might be building up to. He was hers, utterly, and he wanted her to know it.

"Do you trust me?"

He might've laughed, if the fire behind her gaze wasn't threatening to burn him to cinders. He swallowed past his suddenly dry throat. "Of course. With my life."

She nodded, determination hardening like steel in her eyes. "What stresses me out the most is the helplessness. I have no control over the world around me. Things just happen, and all I can do is react." Her fingers stroked the line of his jaw, her thumb sliding over his bottom lip, and he waited, completely still, hoping she would take whatever it was she needed from him. "Just for a night, I want to feel in control. I want to feel strong again."

 _You could shatter me to pieces in a heartbeat._ Probably wasn't what she would've wanted to hear, but it was true; she held his heart in her grasp like nobody had in years, and if that wasn't power, he didn't know what was.

River leaned up on her toes, brushed her lips against the sensitive skin beneath his ear. Her fingers curled around his shoulders for balance, the points of her nails biting like teeth into his skin. "Are you good at taking orders, RJ?"

He shivered, helpless against the mouth-watering sin that was her voice. "Not particularly."

Her smile was predatory. Devious. Stole the breath from his lungs and filled them up with smoke and vanilla, the delicious cocktail that clung to her skin like perfume. "Good," she purred finally, placing one soft, slow kiss to the edge of his mouth. "Otherwise it's no fun." She left him there to try and decipher the puzzle behind her words while she dug through her bag. She found what she was looking for and returned with a satisfied grin.

When River kissed him, fully this time, her lips were demanding, hungry, nipping at his for entrance. He opened to her and groaned when her tongue swept in, seeking his. She tasted like spearmint gum, felt like heaven pressed up against him so tightly. He made to slide his arms around her, but she pushed him away with a hand on his chest. Her eyes were bright and wild, teeth peeking out between parted, swollen lips.

"Take your shirt off." The first order came out swift and relentless, with a finality that refused questioning.

 _Easy enough_. He pulled the worn T-shirt up over his head and tossed it aside. He awaited further instruction with his arms at his sides and the ghost of a smirk on his face. It never failed to get a rise out of him when she looked at him like he was a tall glass of water she couldn't wait to drink down.

She seemed to notice his arrogant preoccupation. Her voice cracked like a whip around his next order, and if she thought she was going to scare the snark out of him so easily, she had another thing coming. "Lie down."

MacCready kicked his shoes off and crossed to the bed, making a big show of stretching out across it. He sat up on his elbows so he could still see her, smiling expectantly.

"All the way down," she specified sharply. His eyes narrowed, trying to gauge where her mind was at, but he obeyed, lying back flat on the mattress.

River tossed something small and heavy onto the bed next to his hand. "Put those on."

His fingers closed around cold metal, and he lifted a pair of handcuffs into his line of vision. He shot her a questioning look, and her answering smile filled him with a swell of fear-laced arousal. Unease settled like a lump in his throat, but he did as he was told. He made a point of maintaining eye contact while he closed a cuff slowly around one of his wrists. Each metallic click as he tightened it seemed deafening in the quiet garage.

"I want it nice and tight," she warned him. He tightened it two more clicks, until the metal sat snug against his skin. "Now loop it through the headboard, then cuff the other one."

MacCready lifted his arms above his head, craning his head back to make sure he did as instructed. Once he'd hooked the chain around a bar of the headboard, he secured his free wrist into the other cuff. Then he tugged experimentally against the hold - the metal bit into his skin, refusing to give way, and his adrenaline kicked in as he fought back a sudden wave of panic.

"RJ."

He looked up at River, standing at the side of the bed, and she must've read the alarm in his expression. She kneeled onto the mattress and leaned over him, his jaw clenched and hard beneath her fingers. "If you tell me to stop, I'll stop," she promised on a quiet breath.

He nodded his understanding, tucked a swift kiss against her fingertips. Her reassurance set him at ease again, and he was itching to find out exactly what she had planned now that he was restrained.

River got up from the bed and started to slowly undress. Peeling River out of her clothes was one of his favorite parts of fucking her, and all he could do was watch helplessly as she shrugged out of her blouse and let it drop to the floor. She unzipped her jeans next, sliding them down over her hips, and he drank in the sight of her long legs, wishing he could feel them soft beneath his hands. He'd only been cuffed about a minute and already he wanted to break free and take her. _That's . . . probably not a good sign. There's still a lot of night left ahead of us_.

River stepped out of her jeans, left in only an ancient bra and her underwear. Her eyes drifted over toward him and she smiled at the sight of him sprawled out before her. She was an almost cruel kind of beautiful, relentless and brutal, the kind that reaches for the heart and won't let go. He'd lost himself countless times in the delicate, stunning composition of her face, a tempting arrangement of high cheekbones and dark, haunting amber eyes. She still wore the old world like a cloak. It was in her mannerisms and her speech, her otherworldly obsession with high heels, the polish on her fingernails and her smile - that _smile_ that promised rapture, promised heartache, broke down all his defenses and wove itself like a virus into the fiber of his being.

River climbed onto the foot of the bed. He craned his neck to watch her crawl her way up his body. Finally her hips settled over his, and she hissed at the hard length of his arousal, caught between her thighs. He dragged in a shaky breath, hips rolling reflexively against her, seeking friction.

Her nails sank into the tensing muscles of his stomach, and he recoiled from the pain. "Behave," she warned him, stroking the skin where she'd hurt him soothingly with her thumbs.

He clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to fire back a retort. Eventually he managed to nod in acquiescence.

River felt him tense up like a stone beneath her, the frustration already evident in his eyes, and his defiance only made the obedience that much sweeter. She dragged the heat of her core up his length, watching him strain with the effort it took to keep still. She ground her hips down into him, let out a strangled moan at the delicious pressure, and he voiced a pained whimper. The material of his pants was rough, and stretched over his aching cock, it provided a spine-tingling friction against her. She impatiently unhooked her bra and leaned down to kiss him, her nipples hardening into points against his chest. She ran her hands down his biceps, felt the muscles straining beneath her fingertips. She pressed her lips to his jaw, nibbling her way up to his ear. "You look so damn good, I don't know where to start."

He laughed breathlessly. "I've got some ideas, if you're open to suggestions."

"I'm sure you do." She pumped her hips over his again, this time in earnest, choking out a sob when his cock rubbed against her just right. She barely had time to register the longing in his expression before her eyes drifted closed, fingers digging into his shoulders. "Talk to me," she prompted him breathlessly. "I want to hear your voice."

"Jesus, I'll read you all of Shakespeare's _Hamlet_ if you keep squirming like that."

River laughed, the sound catching in her throat as she ground herself against him. The pressure of her weight on his cock was muted by the thick material of his pants - pleasant, but not enough to get off on, not even close. She hunched forward, hair swinging over her shoulder, hips dragging back and forth in a steadily increasing rhythm.

"I want to touch you so bad," he groaned, captivated by the little breaths she panted out, the crease in her brow as she worked herself off on top of him. "If I wasn't cuffed down, I'd fuck you until you screamed."

River gasped, bracing one hand against his stomach and sinking down hard against his cock. " _Yes_ ," she whimpered. "Keep going."

"You're driving me _crazy_ , River."

"Don't you dare come," she panted, peeking one eye open. "I'll leave you h-here all night if you do." Her breathless keening took a little bit of the intimidation out of her threat, but he got the message and grunted a frustrated affirmative.

She let out a frenzied moan, hips moving frantically now over his. He could feel her arousal soaking through his pants, and he ached to taste her, to slide his fingers into her and feel her flutter and clench around him. It was an agonizing torture to lie helplessly restrained while she threw her head back, crying out as she tipped over into orgasm. Her nails scraped down his chest, and he arched up into the pain - anything to dull the need that burned like fire under his skin. Her thighs clenched around his waist, and her cunt was scalding against his cock even through the layers of their clothing.

River slumped against his chest, panting for breath. Her thighs were trembling, hair strewn like strands of silk over his body. She pressed clumsy kisses to his shoulder, interrupting them occasionally with the sting of her teeth.

He tensed suddenly underneath her, the handcuffs clattering against the headboard. She looked up to see him easing his arms back down against the mattress with an exasperated sigh. "It's killing me that I can't touch you, Riv," he confessed with a tremor in his voice.

"I know." She soothed him with a slow, tender kiss. "You're doing so well." Her mouth trailed lower, warm suction on his collarbone, then the slope of a pectoral muscle, down the seam of his abs. Her fingers tugged his belt free and unbuttoned his pants. He sighed in relief when her hands finally closed around him, her tight grip taking some of the edge off. His hips thrust instinctively into her hold, and she clucked her tongue in disappointment, loosening her grip.

"Guess I spoke too soon," she chuckled darkly, sliding her hands down his length one last time before releasing him.

" _River_ ," he groaned, arms trembling as he battled his own self-control, making the cuffs rustle noisily against the headboard.

"I know, baby," she sighed sympathetically. "But you just can't seem to behave."

"No, no, no, no," he pleaded when she started to climb off of him. He lifted his head, pulling against his restraints. The words seemed to die on his tongue when he realized she was sliding her underwear down her hips. His eyes followed the white fabric as it fell down her thighs, then drifted back up to take in her glistening folds. "Jesus, you look amazing," he sighed.

River couldn't help a shaky laugh. "You're so sweet," she breathed, draping herself over him again. "What did I do to deserve you?"

The strain momentarily eased from his expression. He even offered her a smile, a hard laugh that shook in his throat. "Beats me, angel."

She placed a hand on each of his thighs, dipping down to close her lips around the head of his cock. His head fell back and he choked out a long, shuddering groan. She ran her tongue around his tip, sank down to take him deeper. His legs began to quiver violently beneath her hands, and she could hear him yanking the handcuffs as far as they would go. He was hard as steel between her lips, thick enough to bring tears to her eyes as she forced him further down her throat.

" _Fuck_!" he gasped, hips twitching uncontrollably. "That's - god, that's good." He said it incredulously, almost laughing.

River gripped him at the base, fingers gentle against the curls of his pubic hair. She glanced up to enjoy the rapture on his face - eyes shut tight, sweat beading on his brow, teeth clenched behind his parted lips. She felt a twinge of guilt for being so strict with him, even if just for a night, though she couldn't deny how horribly aroused she was at the same time.

"Shit - you better stop." He sounded pissed - cut the words out through gritted teeth - but determined to obey her restrictions. "I'm too close."

She released him from her mouth, a triumphant smile spreading over her face. Her hand stayed firm around him, inching her wet grip up and down the base of his shaft. "That's it, baby."

His gaze was softer now that she'd alleviated a little of the ache, watching her every motion like his life depended on it. She lifted her hips, easing her slick folds against the head of his cock and something like reverence passed over his face. "That order still stands," she reminded him firmly as she started to sink down. His gaze was stuck on the sight of his cock slowly sliding into her, and she took his jaw in her hand to grab his attention. "I mean it."

Something about the blue of his eyes made them so easy to read. She could see the frustration, the insolence, the smug satisfaction and, most infuriating, the amusement plain as day in his gaze. She slammed her hips down flat against his, and watched all of that defiance ignite into wordless pleasure.

He exhaled a long, heavy breath. "God, that's amazing," he conceded in a strangled voice, clutching two bars of the headboard in his fists. His hips tensed beneath her hands, providing a steady base for her to grind against. "River - yes." He clenched his teeth, gripping the headboard so hard his fingers were starting to grow numb. River was unbelievably tight, like pulsing velvet around him, and each time she dragged herself back up it stole a little bit more of the breath from his lungs. Her thighs squeezed his hips for dear life every time she sank down and took him to the hilt, her fingernails pinpricks of pain in his hips.

River's expression was like a work of divinity, eyes rolling then fluttering closed, the pink of her tongue flashing briefly in her panting mouth. When he thrust his hips up to meet her, it forced a desperate cry from her throat that nearly drowned out the sound of his own. She leaned forward, bracing herself against his shoulders. His gaze followed the hypnotic swing of her breasts until he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. She was too tempting, too beautiful even when she _wasn't_ flushed and moaning and so agonizingly tight around him he saw stars like bursts of light behind his eyelids.

"You're so _thick_ ," she groaned, swaying momentarily when she took him again. "Fuck, what did they feed you guys in that stupid cave?"

He made a sound like laughter, so rough and tense it was hardly recognizable. " _That's_ all genetics, angel." He punctuated the word with a swift upward thrust, smirking triumphantly at the cry it coaxed out of her. Her eyes slid closed, hips rolling in a lazy circle, and he could tell from the way she was gnawing at her bottom lip that he was hitting every sweet spot in that perfect little body of hers.

"You're such fuckin' trouble," River chided, pushing herself up off of him. He hissed at the frigid air on his cock, wet with her arousal. Her fingers played idly with the head of his cock, and she smiled at him with swollen lips. "Why do I love that so much about you?" she mused, her thumb stroking him slowly, maddeningly.

"I won't move," he promised quickly, his voice cracking around the last word. Somewhere along the lines he'd lost his wits, the sharp sarcasm she loved and hated so much. Now all he could focus on was the throbbing ache, his cock straining for her again, any part of her, fuck, he'd rub up against the back of her thighs and get himself off, he just couldn't take the waiting anymore. "Please, River. Beautiful, beautiful River, Jesus, _please_."

His pleas for mercy seemed to placate her a little, amber eyes softening as she smiled. She placed her fingertips over his mouth and he pressed his lips to them in a reverent kiss. "All right," she conceded finally, tightening her hand into a fist around his cock, making him groan against her fingers. "Here's what's gonna happen."

RJ listened intently, fighting to stay lucid against the sharp pleasure of her hand around him. River leaned forward over his chest, and he could feel her lips against his ear when she spoke. "I'm gonna ride you until I come." Her fingers squeezed him tighter, dragged like a vice up his length and he growled out a curse, deep in his throat. "And if you're good on your word - if you don't move and _don't come_ ," she emphasized the words, fist sliding back down to the base of his cock, "I'll unlock you."

Her last words shocked him into a brief moment of clarity. He licked his lips, adjusting his wrists to ease the strain from being cuffed so long. She swung back up onto her knees, arching a brow down at him challengingly.

"You're on," he agreed, making a big show of shifting into a more comfortable position. River lined him up again with her slick folds and held his gaze when she lowered herself down around him. Her brows arched upward, lips parting around an incredulous sigh. "Fuck," she snarled, her hands splayed out over his stomach, and he'd never heard her snarl before, or expected it to be so damn arousing. She started to pump her hips back and forth, riding him in earnest. The constant pulsing and stretching of her walls around him is raw, torturous ecstasy, and briefly he feared he might not make it. He clenched his eyes tightly shut, willed himself to fight the pleasure creeping like a wildfire through his body. Some lucid part of him remembered that this was for River, and her pleasure was worth a little patience and restraint.

But River liked a challenge as much as he did, and she wouldn't make it easy on him. Every time she sank as deep as she could take him, she let loose another wild, frantic sound that tore like claws at his tenuous self-control. Each shuddering cry was more delicious and sinful than the last - _River Bautista: An Erotic Sampling_ , that's what he'd name the holotape, whenever he finally figured out how to record one, and he'd walk the wastes with the sounds of her ecstasy to keep him warm.

"RJ, baby," she gasped, her steady, determined rhythm growing erratic as she neared orgasm, her next words coming out a strangled groan. Her thighs were starting to shake on either side of him, and he felt a glimmer of hope amid the haze of pleasure. He might just make it yet, but he'd have to hurry the process along a little bit. She was beginning to clench and squeeze around him, and if he could somehow make it through the whirlwind of her orgasm, he'd be in the clear. _Yeah fucking right._

"Fuck," he groaned when River plucked roughly at her nipples, twisting them between her fingers. She whimpered at the sound of his voice, hips grinding harder against him in response. Sex was the only time he let himself get away with swearing, and something about it always seemed to turn her on. "You look so fucking good."

She threw her head back with a hoarse sob. "Yeah?" she pleaded, her hips rocking clumsily now, in desperate, frenzied pursuit of release. She cried out his name, sharp and anxious, almost panicked, and then suddenly she unraveled, sinking down forcefully one last time. She shrieked until her voice went hoarse, fingernails biting into his sides. He choked back a groan as her walls clenched down hard around him, steeling himself mentally _don't come, don't come, don'tcomedon'tcomedon'tcome_.

Finally River stilled, laughter at the end of each gasping breath. She brushed his sweat-damp hair back from his face, her nails soothing against his scalp. "Guess I underestimated how stubborn you are."

He shot her his best arrogant grin. "Rookie mistake," he teased as she lifted herself gingerly off of him.

River carried herself on weak legs to her pants and fished the key from the back pocket where she'd stashed it earlier. RJ was watching her expectantly, that cocky smile still on his face when she came near again. She tried to ignore how hot her skin felt under his gaze as she freed him. His wrists, once she freed them, were circled with angry, red welts, and a wave of guilt tore through her. She opened her mouth to apologize, but he was on her before she could get the first word out.

RJ caught her around the waist, forcing her onto her back. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, making up for lost time, the calloused fingers of one hand stroking her nipples, the other brushing over the raw, hypersensitive folds of her sex. She whimpered helplessly when he brought that hand to his mouth, tongue lashing out to clean the taste of her from his fingers.

She barely had time to process how deeply erotic the act was before he was kissing her, filling the space between her thighs. His pants were still around his ankles and he kicked them off impatiently, cursing under his breath. She managed to wriggle away a little bit while he was distracted. He noticed with an irritated growl, and dragged her back by the ankles the instant he was free.

He gathered a handful of her hair in his fist, angling her head back to suck and nibble at her throat. She savored the sting of teeth, the wet suction of his lips, and then, pushing her past the edges of coherency, his long, wide cock stretching her again, filling her to the brim until she could feel him like an electric current, leaping from vertebra to vertebra. His hips moved forcefully, but measured, as if he were still somehow cognizant that the purpose of this activity had been to alleviate her stress, and that was sweet and all, but she hadn't wound him up just to have him take it easy on her.

She caught his face in her hands, leaning up to nip at his bottom lip. He may have been the one on top, but she would remind him who was in charge tonight. "You're gonna fuck me 'til you come," she snapped, watching his features harden with determination. "And that's an order."

It wasn't an order he had any problems following. It was all he'd been able to think about since he clicked the second handcuff into place around his wrist. But she looked so damn beautiful underneath him, white hair spread out like an eerie halo around her head, need and pleasure in every breath, that it felt like a waste after all that waiting not to savor her properly. He latched onto her shoulder with his teeth, silencing her impatient little noises. His hands were trying to reach every inch of her, down the curves of her sides, over scars, freckled skin and stretch marks, imperfections he loved so absolutely she'd stopped being self-conscious about them months ago. Every piece of her was perfect as it was.

She smiled gratefully, seemed to read the appreciation all over his face. "Come here," she laughed, pulling him down into a kiss. Her lips moved slowly, tenderly against his, and then deeper, her tongue sliding across his bottom lip and then drawing it between her teeth. Her thighs shifted wider, allowing him to inch deeper inside of her, and they both cried out at the sensation. "Fuck, perfect, yes," she gasped, throwing her head back. His eyes strayed to the column of her throat, pale and perfect, and he was wrapping his hand around it before he could even register the desire to do so. She exhaled a blissful sigh, opened dark, amused eyes to meet his gaze. She licked her lips in anticipation, curling a slender hand around his wrist. "Do it, baby," she breathed, tilting her head further back.

He tightened his grasp, leisurely, on every other thrust into her tight, slick heat, to slow himself down and give her the chance to stop him. But his hold seemed to sharpen her pleasure, made her gasp and sigh adoringly. He could feel her throat swell beneath his grip with every breath, her pulse pounding rapidly under the pad of his thumb. Her eyes widened, glistening wet with rapture, mouth moving silently around phonemes she couldn't voice. He might've been on his knees professing his eternal love and fidelity for all the bliss in her expression, not squeezing the air from her throat, with his cock so deep inside of her it stole what breath was left.

MacCready dipped his head against her sternum, losing himself for a moment in the feeling of her clenching around him. She mewled and writhed each time he slid back in, her nails raking down his back and side, leaving angry red trails he would definitely feel in the morning. He loosened his grip, shifting his hand up to cradle her face, while she caught her breath with arching gasps.

He traded pace for deeper, slower thrusts, taking her breasts in his hands like he'd been dying to do since he first restrained himself. She shuddered when he rolled her nipples between rough fingers, and then she was coming so suddenly it took him by surprise. He braced himself with a grunt against the mattress as her sex tightened and pulsed around him, providing such a delicious friction it threatened to push him over the edge. She gripped his shoulders with white knuckles, unleashing a shriek to wake the dead. He wondered briefly if they could hear her all the way in Sanctuary, and then found a sliver of himself hoping that they would. That her screams of ecstasy would wake up Garvey in his bed, make it clear that MacCready could tend to _all_ of his precious General's needs without any help from anyone else, thank you very much.

"RJ," River scolded him when she came back down and realized he'd stopped moving. With her all flushed and breathless after her orgasm, the frustration was more adorable than intimidating, but he pushed back into her nonetheless, with a pointed roughness that made her groan.

"Don't worry," he reassured her, voice heavy and rough at her ear, "I'm not done with you yet." He fit his hand once more into the groove beneath her jaw line. She took one last deep breath before he applied pressure - harder this time, more insistent, feeling out her limits. The leverage allowed him to thrust deeper, angled higher, and he felt the cry in her throat under his grasp, her walls so sinfully tight around his cock.

River closed her eyes, listening to her heartbeat like a drum in her ears. The pleasure was all she could comprehend, heavy, abrasive, almost too much to handle. She could still breathe past his grasp, but too slowly, so that she felt the gentlest edge of burn on each torturous inhale. Faintly, over the sound of her racing pulse, she could hear his breath at her ear, rough and strangled and so goddamn sweet, she loved the sound of him falling apart, there was nothing better in this whole fucked-up, ruined world. She clutched at his shoulders, pressing kisses to his temple and ear, any part of him she could reach. When her lungs started to protest, and her thoughts drifted toward dark static, she dug her nails into his arm and he eased off. He pushed into her and held himself there, filled her fucking full while she caught her breath. She tried to form words, and once she found her voice they spilled out of her in an incomprehensible stream: "Fuck, RJ, oh my god, oh my god, I can't believe it, that'ssogood."

RJ laughed, soothing her throat tenderly with his lips. "That's a new one."

"I don't control my rants," she sighed, amused, her head feeling a little clearer now. "You just fuck 'em out of me."

"I liked that one." He moved his hips, small thrusts that melted the words at the back of her tongue into shallow, lilting cries. He must've decided they weren't important. They were, but they could wait - would have to, really, because he was picking up the pace again and completely scattering what little focus she'd managed to gather.

"Please, baby," she panted, trailing suckling kisses down the side of his neck, sweat and soap on her tongue. "I need it so bad."

RJ groaned, grabbing her hips in his hands. She whimpered when he dug his fingers in, nails biting her skin. His hips moved insistently, focused, nearing release, and she wanted so desperately to feel him fill her, that intimate, breathtaking moment that felt like breaking free, like salvation, like knowing she got to spend the rest of her life with him and she would _literally kill_ anyone who tried to take him away from her. It was a defensive, primal, wasteland kind of love, deep in the marrow of her bones, as much a part of her now as the blood in her veins and it was damn good to be whole again.

River felt the warmth and pressure when he came, savored the agonized noises he muffled against her shoulder. Her lips moved tenderly down his jaw, softer now that she was sated, his hips still jerking erratically against hers as he drew out the last few waves of his climax. She loved to watch the pleasure seize his expression, feel his muscles bunch and tense above her.

And then suddenly RJ was laughing, breathless and exhausted, almost hysterical.

She patted his shoulder to make him sit up, her voice high with concern. "Baby? Are you okay?"

"How does it keep getting better?" He pushed his hair back from his face and grinned appreciatively down at her. "Every time is the best time ever. How is that even possible?"

"You goof. You had me worried." She grabbed one of his arms and inspected his wrist. "I'm so sorry, baby, you should've told me it was hurting you." She pressed gentle kisses to the bruised skin.

"Don't worry 'bout it," he yawned, tugging her against him. "I kept pulling at them. Wanted you too bad."

River snuggled up into his side. She was sweaty and sticky and uncomfortable, but she couldn't convince herself to leave the warm curl of his arm. "Have I mentioned lately that I love you?"

He rolled his eyes, his smile betraying his affection. "Only all the time."

"Good. I wish I could say it with every breath, I feel it so strongly." She ducked her head against his shoulder and he held her tighter, until she could hear his heartbeat beside her ear, slowing in the wake of their lovemaking. "My perfect, delicious man. What did I ever do to deserve you?"

"You ask me that like I'm supposed to know." He kissed the crown of her hair. "You're the brains."

"S'that make you the looks?"

"No, that's you, too." He laughed with her this time, even though it looked like he could barely keep his eyes open. He managed to peek one open when she pulled out of his arms. "No," he protested sleepily, groping for her.

"I'll be back. You stay right there."

He must've drifted off at some point, because when he next opened his eyes, River was in his shirt, sitting on the bed at his side. She pulled a washcloth from a bucket on the floor and wrung most of the water from it. He sighed in relief when she pressed its warmth gingerly to his throat. She ran it in soothing strokes over his neck and shoulders, then down the length of his slender chest to his hips. Her hands were gentle when she cleaned his oversensitive cock, and still he twitched away from her touch, laughing shakily. He heard her sliding the bucket away from the bed and then she was back, wrapping herself affectionately around him.

"Do you need a stimpak?"

"Mm-mn. Just you." RJ shifted her hair out of the way so he could kiss her cheek. "Love you."

"Always." She stroked his hair until long after he'd fallen back to sleep, enjoying how peaceful he looked. She felt boneless and satisfied and the good kind of sore that probably wouldn't be so good come morning. Eventually the sound of his deep, even breathing and the distant whir of the generator and turrets outside lulled her to sleep. She was so exhausted she didn't dream a thing.

In the morning, he found the handcuffs, key included, in one of his jacket pockets. When he asked her about it, she smiled, looking more carefree than he'd seen her in months.

"Keep it. You get the key next time."


End file.
